


Mobther

by holofish



Category: Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic
Genre: F/F, Mafia AU, bodyguard Morgiana, important characters will be added as story progresses, mafia Hakuryuu, mafia Kougyoku, the Ren family is a crime family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2020-03-06 16:31:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18854809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/holofish/pseuds/holofish
Summary: She walks with power, radiates it; she is it and it is she. The body shimmer that she rubbed into her skin earlier shines off of her skin under the bright, warm lighting of the grand hall. It’s golden, but not too much so; evenly complimenting all that dwell within it without yellowing their skins.Yet, even in its greatness, all dolled up as much as she, the slightly shorter woman behind her notes, keeping up effortlessly with her every step and recalculation, none held even a speck of dust to her majesty.The hall itself, massive and rich, a display of the long amassed wealth of the family, held before her. Prior to her entry, the golden pillars and marble statues and elaborate painted designs and sculpted ceiling and windows had gleamed with unbelievable magnitude, but in her presence, they were reduced to plastics and chalk.Morgiana was unbelievably gay, and her new charge wasn’t helping matters in the least.How had she gotten here, again? Oh, that was right: by scaling the ranks of the local mafia through Definitely Good Life Choices.--OR:(1) Morgiana is Kougyoku's bodyguard for a big important banquet, and(2) Gyokuen is a horrendous person, but we all already knew that.





	Mobther

The 24K gold on the bottom of her 7-inch, electric blue heels clicks against pristine, gleaming white marble tile with every step she takes as she walks. Two long, neat, and yet untameably wavy, dark pink-red extensions cascade down her back, connected almost naturally from the loops of red hair behind her head. Bright, flamingo red garments of 100% silk adorn her body, cut off just before her not only toned, but muscled shoulders, following the curves of her body to fall gently around her ankles. Both of her arms are sleeved in shining silver, silver that trails the edges and ends of the dress’s slit that cuts neatly up to her upper thigh. Beneath it, her tights are black all but for the golden rose pattern adorning the outer sides of her calves.

She walks with power, radiates it; she _is_ it and it is she. The body shimmer that she rubbed into her skin earlier shines off of her skin under the bright, warm lighting of the grand hall. It’s golden, but not too much so; evenly complimenting all that dwell within it without yellowing their skins.

Yet, even in its greatness, all dolled up as much as she, the slightly shorter woman behind her notes, keeping up effortlessly with her every step and recalculation, none held even a speck of dust to her majesty.

Even the hall itself, massive and rich, a display of the long amassed wealth of the family, held before her. Prior to her entry, the golden pillars and marble statues and elaborate painted designs and sculpted ceiling and windows had gleamed with unbelievable magnitude, but in her presence, they were reduced to plastics and chalk.

Mor was unbelievably gay, and her new charge wasn’t helping matters in the least.

 _“Oh, you’d make a great bouncer!”_ they said.

 _“Hmm, I bet you could get paid more by doing some work for the Rens,”_ they said.

_“Nothing too intense. You’ll just have to keep watch on a few areas from time to time and intimidate some folks as necessary.”_

How had she gotten here, again? Oh, that was right: by scaling the ranks of the local mafia through good life choices.

Now, oh, now, she had to deal with _this._ Playing nanny to a god damn executive, one who was _only twenty-one herself_ and the daughter of the fucker pulling strings, in broad chandelier light of nobility, law, and corporate eyes alike.

Damn it.

In the sea of grey, black, silver, and dully colored suits surrounding them, Mor’s own electric blue stood out like a beacon, or in her case, a hazard sign.

 _Don’t get too close or you’ll get hurt,_ it all but audibly warned.

… Ah, but that was fine. What was important was that she blended into the crowd’s dynamic, not its appearance, and her charge had taken care of that quite personally. When she’d shown up originally on time and in casual packing dress, a plain black suit hiding the bulletproof vest beneath, together but overall quite plain, her lady had thrown an absolute fit.

 _“Oh, now you can_ ** _not_** _actually be considering going to the gala dressed like that,”_ she’d gasped, horrified, to which Morgiana had shrugged.

She could carry out her duties well and easy in such garb, so it hadn’t seemed much a problem to her at the time. Now, though, she was glad for the woman’s insight.

Before she could’ve so much as thought to complain, her undercut hair had been restyled, rewashed and cleaned and thoroughly groomed out with products so expensive that she’d never so much as touch them _if_ she could find them in high-tier stores. It gleamed and shimmered, falling on a new part down the sides of her face, her bangs smoothly breaking in two above her right eye. Her makeup had been retouched as well; actually, that was the wrong word, it had been removed and entirely redone from the skin up. Moisturizer, foundation, powder, bronzer, shadow, luminating powder, liner, and falses had been applied. Mor was just glad that her lips had been left to their usual colorless balm and the black gages in her ears were left in peace.

Even if middle and upper society deemed them unprofessional, at least high underground society respected her life choices. Granted, she’d already one example of a time some bastard tried tearing through her ear with them during a fight.

But then, that’s where their nanotech came into play. Mor had spent quite a pretty penny of her initial pay on getting them, half for their usefulness and half for her own peace of mind. Having ears that had been tagged, used against her… No, now, they would zap and fry any who touched them with a mere thought command line of hers. Most wouldn’t bother to go for them in the heat of conflict, but if any ever did again, they would reap their own fate.

In front of her, her lady stopped. Taken aback by the sudden halt after having zoned out ( _get it together, bitch,_ she mentally chastised herself), Mor took an extra step, almost bumping into her charge before stopping neatly and cleanly as well. The woman whipped around, her brown eyes sharp.

Mor tensed, her face paling, but the woman wasn’t looking at her, but behind her. A hand reached out to her own, gently tapping on her index finger’s knuckle three times.

 _Watch that person,_ it communicated. Mor stared at her face for a moment, but she showed no emotion, her expression impassive, before decidedly turning over her heel to assess the potential threat.

There were a lot of people at the gala, but apart from her charge, none stood out quite so much as the tall, long-haired man with thick, long black hair and sun-tanned skin wearing what was surprisingly the only white suite in the hall. Thick and thin golden chains alike dangled from his deep, royal prune vest and cream white sleeves, from the belt loops of his pants, and from around his strong, pretty neck. A thick vein trailed down from his chin to his collarbone on the right side. A brown eye caught Mor’s own even from his distance and she breathed.

He was big, massive really, an utter unit. More importantly, though, as if that were the only issue, surely she could handle him— he was familiar. Familiar, and not in a good way. He was—!

“Morgiana!” he bellowed, taking the initiative and surfing forward through the crowd, which parted like the sea for Moses before him. “Lady Kougyoku Ren!”

He came up to the both of them, nodding at Mor before taking her charge’s hand and bringing it up to his soft, large lips.

“I trust that you’ve been well?”

“Ah— yes,” her charge agreed stiffly.

Mor gently nudged her with her elbow, reining her back into reality. She had an act fo play for the time being, or her mother would surely be displeased.

The Ren executive hiccuped. The man before them, Mr. ‘Sinbad,’ grinned, all obnoxiously white teeth and sparkling eyes.

“That’s good to hear,” he replied. “I hear that you’ve recently taken a more… shall we say, _direct_ role within your mother’s company?”

“REN is not my mother’s company, I assure you,” Lady Kougyoku immediately responded.

Mr. Sinbad’s brows raised in his surprise, as did the lady’s own.

“Ah— what I mean to say is,” she began to correct herself, only to find herself cut off by the man’s loud laughter.

“All is well,” he assured. Then, leaning in almost uncomfortably close, he whispered, “I won’t let anyone know.”

Mor cleared her throat gruffly, and he backed off again, standing back up to his full height. His eyes continued to twinkle.

“And you, Miss Morgiana?”

“I’ve been fine, Sir,” she quickly, quietly, answered back.

Lady Kougyoku glanced between the two of them in confusion. Mor just wished that Mr. Sinbad would look away, but naturally, it wasn’t to be, as he just kept staring and smiling. She really didn’t want to have to explain her work history on a one-night overtime gig.

Finally, Lady Kougyoku broke the silence.

“Well, if that’s all, I’ve really got to get going,” she cheerily declared. A hand of hers snaked down and grasped onto Morgiana’s own, and Mor tensed. “The buffet awaits me!”

Thankfully, Mr. Sinbad let the two of them go, allowing them to escape the socially obligatory conversation that he’d thrust upon them.

“Quite understandable,” he nodded. “Don’t drink too much before the after party!”

Lady Kougyoku laughed and turned away, forcibly dragging Mor behind her. Mor’s heart raced.

_Pretty girl holding hand pretty aaaaagh—!_

Suddenly, Lady Kougyoku let go, whirling around to face her. They’d barely made it to one of the many exits of the main hall, stopped behind one of the many golden pillars lining it and defining the shadowed halls beneath its sides. Her elbow pressed against Mor’s chest as she backed her against the pillar.

“Are you one of his doubles?” she directly asked, staring questioningly, fearlessly into Mor’s eyes.

Okay, perhaps not fearlessly, but a girl could dream. They were definitely direct, though, and held more force in their dark brown hues than before.

“I… no?” Mor answered.

Lady Kougyoku frowned.

“I did some work for him for a brief time when I was younger,” Morgiana explained. “With a few friends. We’ve all long since gone our separate ways.”

It had been a long time since she’d thought of them, to be honest.

Lady Kougyoku continued to stare at her face, searching, then promptly released her, taking a cautious step back.

“Just don’t blow tonight and get me killed,” she ordered. Then, turning away, she continued, “damn two-faced grunts.”

If Morgiana truly cared, she would probably be offended. As it was, she didn’t work under Lady Kougyoku’s line of business, so it really didn’t matter. At the end of the day, she would return to her apartment after dropping the Lady back safely in her penthouse, and wake up the next morning geared up for school and back under the lady’s half brother, Mr. Hakuryuu’s command.

She really couldn’t wait.

Just then, a loud _boom_ shocked through the air, pushing molecules outwards and for milliseconds that may have just as well been minutes contorted reality out of orbit. A loud _creee-aaaaaaaaak_ promptly followed, screams echoing through the hall as a thick white cloud of dust and rubble swamped the area.

Lady Kougyoku gasped. Mor breathed in quickly to gather as much oxygen as she could and blinked herself free of the stupor her mind had unwittingly entered that night, once she’d felt the lady’s fingers carding through her hair, soft fingers scrubbing against her scalp, her nails clipped trim. Her heart beat twice before finally picking up its pace, getting back in grip, into the swing of things, and she grabbed onto her charge’s waist, hauling her upwards and pulling her up over her shoulder.

“Wh- what-?” the woman squeaked, to which she took no time nor effort to reply.

She didn’t know what was happening in the least, but she knew that she had to get the both of them out safely. Her paycheck and likely her life, as well as her charge’s, depended on it. Unfortunately, she seemed to have decided at some point that she didn’t particularly want to see the girl dead with a bullet through her head.

Dashing out from behind the pillar, she ran to the next, briefly pausing behind it to attempt and survey through the fog, only to find that to be nigh impossible with its milky thickness.

But… wait.

There were three, five, seven, nine, no, twelve red dots filtering around through it, as far as she could see…

That was familiar technology.

One got awfully close to where the two of them were hiding, people still screaming out in the midst of the fog, and she darted again to the next. After that, the next. Lady Kougyoku struggled over her shoulder, fussing audibly.

“Be quiet, my lady,” she ordered, soft but firm. “I don’t know what’s happening here or why. Please, for now, be quiet.”

Strangely enough, that seemed to shut the woman up.

 _Thank fuck_ , Mor internally breathed.

More red dots circled in on their location, and with a sudden surge of horror, she realized that more than likely, they actually _were_ focused on her charge.

The Ren family had been known for centuries for their tremendous corporate and political power. At any time, a good half of the family would be invested in the empire that they ran, and the other in their company, cleverly named REN. What most didn’t know, at least anymore, was how they’d grown into such power. The Ren family weren’t the idols or influencers that the modern day made them out to be, not by a long shot; they were a crime family, plain and simple, and had turned away from every chance presented to them in ancient and recent history to break away from their morbid roots.

Morgiana sucked in another breath and took off in a low sprint. If she could only reach the stairs headed downwards at the end of the hall—!

Three figures stood out through the smoky, foggy cloud, blocking them. She reeled back, knowing that it was too late, that they had seen her. She wasn't sure why, or how, but her brain wasn't responding right. It was slow, foggy, still. Clouded, unable to properly panic and respond. No adrenaline raced through her veins.

_Shit, fuck, fuck!_

One of the three started forward. A silver whistle dangled around his neck, but he didn’t use it. Lady Kougyoku squirmed, likely uncomfortable from being slinged over her shoulder for so long. She had less than seconds to make a decision.

Suddenly, the lady squirmed free, her longer legs pushing against the floor. She slid down, keeping her arms wrapped around Mor’s shoulders, and pressed the toe end of her right heel to the tile beneath them in a strange pattern, almost as if she were doing a one-foot dance. It was an odd tile, one of the few decorated ones going in a straight box around the hall’s halls. Each of the individual odd tiles had a different image crafted onto it, but—.

The ground suddenly gave way beneath her, the floor slipping past her face before she’d even realized she was falling.

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers: Morgiana is Out Of It, guys. Good luck sleeping that off, best girl.


End file.
